The Road to Home
by Laughwithabby
Summary: A girl wakes up in a Manhattan hospital with no memory. She doesn't know where to go or what to do, but S.H.I.E.L.D shows up with a job offer saying she has a special gift. Little does she know that she already has ties to S.H.I.E.L.D, and a much more twisted past than she thinks. This is my first story, so please be nice. The first chapter is boring but necessary. Please read! :D
1. Chapter 1

_I finally figured out how to do the line thingy, so now I can do a legitimate introduction!_

_Hi! I'm Abby! This is my first ever fan fiction so please play nice. I hope you like the story. It's been floating around in my head for almost a year and it feels great to get it down. For those who are wondering, I'm going to try to update twice a week. If that doesn't happen I should be able to update at least once a week. The chapters are pretty short after all. I haven't finished all of AOS yet. I'm 5 episodes away from the mid-season finale, so please don't give me any spoilers. I also want to apologize in advance for anything that may be inaccurate. Please review if you have any comments or suggestions. It helps me a lot. I'll answer them when I can._

_ Because of stupid copyright laws, I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to use as I please._

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><p>I open my eyes to a startlingly white hospital room. Soft sheet rest on my legs and a thin pillow rests beneath my head. My eyes drift lazily around the rest of the room, my mind half asleep. To my right, there is a cream-colored curtain drawn across the length of the room. There's a door on the wall to my left. I glance down at my body. My right arm has an IV stuck in it, and my fingers have a small clip on them. I can hear a faint beep that coincides with my pulse.<p>

My mind begins to sharpen, and fear begins to soak my thoughts. 'What happened?!' I ask myself. My breathing and my pulse quicken. I try to think back before this morning. Nothing. I can't remember anything. I sit forward in my bed, and look around, trying to find something that can jog my memory. With no luck, I panic. My instincts tell me to get out. Scared and without anything else to go on, I trust the inclination. I'm going to try to escape the hospital.

I reach forward to unclasp the grey clip from my fingers. A sharp pain shoots up my left shoulder and down my back. 'What the hell?' I grab it, trying to soothe the pain. Once it subsides to a dull throb, I pull down the shoulder of my hospital gown, revealing a large purple bruise. 'How'd I get this?' I silently ask myself. The bruise goes a small length down my arm, past my line of sight, and up my neck. I lean my head back, testing the extent of the wound. I wince as a smaller pain begins to spread down my back, and to the left. 'Great. This makes everything so much easier,' I think to myself.

I carefully unclip the gray clasp from my fingers once again, this time successful. I un-tape the IV, and carefully pull it from my arm. I cringe as the needle slides out from under my pale flesh. I grab a few tissues from the nightstand next to me, and hold them to my now bloody arm. I quickly stand, hoping to get out of here as quickly as possible. I remember I'm in a hospital gown, and curse. 'How am I supposed to walk around in this thing?' But, as I move, I discover that I have a tank top and shorts on underneath the gown. I quickly take it off. 'Great. Now I just need shoes, and then I can get out of here.'

Outside of the hospital room is a large hallway. I don't see anyone besides a small red-headed nurse scribbling on a clipboard. 'That's odd. Aren't there usually more people in a hospital?' I ask myself. I dismiss my thoughts, 'It must be early.' I should be concentrating on escape. To my right, at the end of the hallway, is a door flashing EXIT. 'Perfect.'

I quickly tiptoe to the door, hoping the nurse doesn't catch me. My hand rests on the handle. I swing it open, and slip through the small crack. It silently shuts behind me.

I breathe out a heavy sigh. 'Hallelujah.' There are cheap concrete stairs and plaster walls in front of me. 'I'm almost there,' I remind myself. I just have to get down and out. I fly down the first few flights of stairs, but I'm I'm winded by the time I get to the fifth floor. I must have been in the hospital for a while. I'm pretty out of shape. Some shoes sure would be nice. I pace myself the last few flights.

I get to the second floor when I hear a door open beneath me. 'Oh !' I scramble, looking for a place to hide. Nothing. Just dusty stairs everywhere you look. There's a door to my left, opening to the second floor. There's a sign above the door that reads Psychiatric Ward. I quickly push through it, hoping nobody heard it click shut.

This floor looks almost exactly like the one before. I wait by the exit, in hopes that whoever was climbing the stairs would be gone. 'Just wait 60 seconds,' I tell myself. I begin to count. I only get to 21 before a nurse in pale orange scrubs turns down the hall. There's no doubt that she saw me. Our eyes met as soon as she turned the corner. 'This is just perfect.'

The brunette nurse begins walking towards me. "Miss, you're not supposed to be on this floor," She begins. "Can I help you find your room?" She speaks soothingly, probably because she has experience talking to unstable patients. I don't know what to do. I don't want to go back to my room.

Without thinking, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, "Can you lead me to my belongings?" She looks confused for a moment. She stares blankly at me for a while. I don't know what I've done. 'Just run,' I think. I would take a lot of effort, but I think I could do it. But my gut tells me to wait. The nurse shakes her head, looking dazed, and then she stares up at me as if nothing's happened.

"I would gladly lead you to your belongings," She says. She has a dazed expression and emotionless eyes. She's looking in my general direction, but it doesn't feel like she's looking at me. 'What just happened?' I ask myself. The nurse turns and begins to walk down the hall. "This way." I hesitantly begin to walk behind her. I have no idea where this woman is taking me. She could be leading me to a lethal shot for all I know, but, against my better judgment, I'm not too worried about the outcome.

The nurse leads me through the hospital, to a small room full of lockers. She jingles her keys around, searching for the correct one. She eventually unlocks a locker with the name Jane Doe written on the top. In it are some worn clothes and sneakers, a cell phone, and a small wallet. The nurse hands me the items and walks out. I watch her shut the door, leaving me in here alone. 'Okay...?'

I dismiss her behavior, 'Whatever.' My priority is shifted back to escape. I quickly change into the normal looking clothes. They fit perfectly. I look completely ordinary. The cell phone is cheap. The screen quality sucks, and a keyboard comes sliding out from the bottom. The wallet has about $200 in it, but no form of identification or anything telling. The hospital didn't know who I am either, or they would've assigned me anything but Jane Doe. I tuck the wallet and the phone in my pocket, and leave the room.

It wasn't hard to find the stairway again, and after that, leaving the building was pretty easy. Someone even left the back door propped open. When I find the final exit, I slip out of the hospital, and into a large booming city.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! You guys made my day! If you have any suggestions, please review. It helps me out a lot! I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to do as I please._

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><p>'Manhattan,' I think. 'I'm in Manhattan.' I try to remember how I know where I am, but nothing's coming to me. I try to assure myself that it doesn't scare me as much as it does.<p>

I jog through the back alleyway of the hospital and into a crowd of people. I can hear car horns from all directions. I walk in the general direction of the people around me, not going to do anything specific. I try to soak in my surroundings. Trees are in the process of turning from green to gold. It must be mid to late October. The sun is low in the east. It's probably about 7 am. The people around me are wearing everything from construction gear to high-quality business suits. I have no clue as to where I'm going, but my feet just keep taking me there.

I walk a few blocks then make a right. Then I walk a few more and take a left. I do this for almost thirty minutes, trying to make sure I'm not followed by anyone. I finally find a small French cafe that looks like such a hole in the wall, there's no way anyone could find me here.

I walk in and a faint bell rings. For being in such a gross, dirty area of the city, it's pretty nice. The walls are plastered in a pale pinks and blues. A few people are sitting in various places around the room; all of them are on laptops. There's a small mural of a sunset behind a refrigerated glass case with various European pastries and cakes. They smell divine, and my stomach lets out a violent growl. A thin man covered in flour walks out of the kitchen and behind the cash register next to the pastries. "What can I get for you?" I end up buying a sausage wrapped in flaky dough, a small coffee, and a water bottle. It's all almost $20.

I sit in the far corner of the cafe to eat, and try to come up with a plan. 'Maybe leaving the hospital was a bad idea,' I tell myself. I have nowhere to go, and no plan. What am I going to do? I could've at least gotten some information before leaving. 'I should've stayed put.'

_No_. I have a burning feeling in my gut. For whatever reason, all of my instincts tell me I was right to leave that hospital. I have to lay low. I bury my head in my hands. Everything's so frustrating. I don't know what to do.

I hear the quiet bell as the door swings open and a red head in a leather jacket walks in. A burst of cool wind rushes through the door. The fiery haired girl glances over at me and I look back down at my food. I start to feel uneasy, but ignore it. What would I have to feel uneasy about? I go back to eating my small meal, but my attention stays on the girl.

She orders black coffee and a breakfast bagel to go. With the coffee in hand she turns to sit with me, across the table. My heart starts beating nervously.

"Can I just start by saying that was one of the worst escapes I've ever seen?" She puts her feet on the table and starts to eat her bagel.

Her statement takes me by surprise. "What?"

"You seriously asked a nurse for help? You should've been stopped before you even reached the stairs." She has an annoyed expression. Her light blue eyes seem to see right through me.

"How," I pause, "how do you know about that?"

She reaches for a handshake, "Natasha Romanoff." I take her hand and give a small jerk.

"Why are you here?" Something in my voice made it sound smooth and easy. I don't like it.

She pauses for a moment too long, but I don't pay much attention to it. "I'm doing a favor for a friend. He leads an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. He's a little under staffed right now, and he wants me to bring you in." For a short moment Romanoff's demeanor changes. She seems startled and confused. The moment passes quickly, however and she continues talking ignoring whatever shocked her. "Look, I can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

I give her a small nod. My gut's telling me she's safe, but I'm shaking. 'This makes no sense,' I think to myself. First I feel like I should run and now that I'm caught I feel like I should surrender. What the hell's wrong with me?

Romanoff leads me out of the cafe and into a large black SUV. I can't see who's in the driver's seat. Once I settle in the car, Romanoff hands me a blindfold, which I willingly put on. I sit back in my seat trying to relax, but despite my best efforts I'm on edge.

I take a deep breath. I hear a blast of air, and a prick on my arm. I whip off the blindfold to see agent Romanoff holding a silvery gun with shiny blue highlights. I look at my arm and a frosty blue circle has appeared on it. I try to glance back up, but I eyes black out and I fall into deep sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello everyone! I'm sorry if it seems too slow, that's one of the many things I worry about when writing. Please review if you have any comments on the writing or if you have any plot ideas. I have most of the plot figured out, but you never know. I don't own any Marvel media, I'm just borrowing some characters to do what I please with them._

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><p>I wake up in a black room with octagonal panels covering the walls. I have a splitting headache and my neck is annoyingly tight. My hands are strapped to the metal chair I'm sitting in.<p>

Before I have time to think, the panels break showing the outline of a door. A thin brunette walks in, the door slides shut behind her. "Hi," she says with a breathy smile. "I'm sorry about the way you were brought in here. The welcome wagon isn't what it used to be."

"What?"

"Right, you don't know what that is." She takes a seat across the table from me, and opens a laptop. "Natasha told me that you know we're S.H.I.E.L.D. agents." She pauses, waiting for me to speak. When I see I'm not saying anything, she continues, "You were once thought qualified to be put on a list called the Index. You were taken off the list by an agent who turned out to have ties to other organizations. We'd like to know why you were taken off of the list." She pauses, probably expecting me to ask questions, but I just sit. "I'm Skye by that way."

I smile, attempting to be friendly and compliant. "Skye, I don't know what you're talking about."

She rolls her eyes. "I really don't want to have to send Romanoff in here, but I will if I have to."

I feel a rush of anger shoot through my body. "Don't threaten me," I snap. "I've had one of a day, and I'd appreciate it if all you agents didn't assume I know what's going on."

She shakes her head slightly. "You're claiming that you don't remember being inspected for the list?" Skye asks unconvinced. She has an unbelieving look on her face. It aggravates me.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't remember past this morning." This is stupid. I shouldn't have to answer to her. Something pushes it way to the front of my mind. 'I shouldn't even be here.'

She gives me a suspicious look. "Okay. I have some standard interrogation questions that I have to ask before I'll have you sent down to the science lab for a mental examination."

Skye asks me all sorts of personal questions. Most I don't know how to answer because of my memory loss. Almost 20 questions in she must have picked up on how agitated I am. She started to talk more delicately and avoided outwardly showing that she doesn't believe me.

"Can you tell me who your last employer was?"

"Nope. I can't remember."I shake my head and let out a sigh. I don't want to face anything else I fail to recollect.

As the questions drone on I start to realize that most them are just being repeated in different variations. It's probably an interrogation tactic to ensure the person in question is keeping their story straight. Thankfully for me, my story is easy; I don't remember.

"Have you ever, under any circumstance, been affiliated with a group called Hydra?"We've gone through maybe 30 questions and we are both getting bored.

"I don't know. They don't sound familiar."

Skye shifts in her seat and draws her knees to her chest. She's just as uninterested in this as I am. "Have you discovered any special abilities you may possess?"

Something sparks in my mind. I think back to the nurse and Romanoff. More faces flash in my mind. Nothing more comes. Just faces. So many faces. I close my eyes and try to grasp at whatever my mind was trying to process. Whatever it is, it's gone.

"I know this sounds strange, but when you said that, something…" I pause. Trying to describe what happened without sounding too insane. "Something came to me."

Skye perks up, sitting up straight in her chair. "Alright, it's better than another _I don't know_." She grabs the pen from off the table and positions herself to write. "What _came_ to you?" She gives me a sarcastically devilish smile. I smirk back.

"Well, I saw faces. A lot of them." I wait to see if Skye is taking me seriously. She types something into her laptop, and then gives me a small nod. Reassured, I continue, "First I saw the nurse that helped me get out of the hospital. Then, I saw Natasha faces started appearing in my mind. They kept coming and coming. So many different people, but I didn't recognize anyone."

Skye looks up at me after she's finished typing. "That's it?"

"That's it."

She looks bored again, "Ok, it's better than nothing, I guess." She glances at her laptop again. Visible relief washes over her, "Last question." I almost giggle to myself. Despite having a horrible first meeting; I think I'd like Skye. "Why did you leave the hospital?"

I don't really know what to say, because I don't really know myself. "A bad feeling?" She looks at me strangely. I would too if I were her. "My gut was telling me to get out, that I wasn't meant to be there, so I followed it."

She nods while typing a few more things into her laptop. When she finishes, she grins at me. "That concludes the interrogation." Skye looks genuinely delighted to be through with my boring interrogation. It almost looks like she's talking to the ceiling, "You can let her loose, Mai. I'm pretty sure she's not going to kill me."

The metal cuffs keeping me locked to the chair retract, and I rub my wrists. They have red lined from where the metal met my skin. Skye winces at the sight of it."I'll ask Jemma to take a look at that when she does your mental examination." The door opens and Skye starts to walk towards it. "Follow Me."

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><p><em>Sorry about it not being readable at first. Let me know if anything like that happens again. <em>

_I'm thinking of making the next chapter a Natasha POV. Tell me what you think. Also, I was thinking i'd add like a flashback sort of thing so you can see who the girl is, but it might be premature and confusing. Give me your thoughts, it helps! :D_


	4. Chapter 4

_I went ahead and did the Natasha POV chapter anyway. I thought it would be a nice change from a lot of 'I don't knows' and 'I followed my instincts.' I'd like some thank you's for updating so quickly. And, can we just slow clap it out because this is the longest chapter I've written. Just a reminder, I haven't finished Agents of Shield yet, so I'm sorry if anything is incorrect, and please don't review any spoilers. I'm about 5 episodes from the mid-season finale. As usual, I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to do as I please._

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><p><strong>Natasha<strong>

"I'm telling you, Coulson, she's must've slipped something in my food or …"

Coulson shakes his head. "She hardly seems like the type to do that, not to mention you've developed immunities to most mind dulling drugs." He takes a seat on his desk. I hate the new office. I hate the new headquarters. I hate Coulson as the director. He's nice and all, but it doesn't take _nice_ to run the agency that's supposed to protect the world. Fury knew how to run this place. Sure, he was a cynical bastard, but he's the only one that saw the Hydra threat coming. Plus, we had an understanding. He didn't have to tell me anything about what I was doing as long as it was for the good of the people. Now everything has fallen into the hands of a tiny team of "agents" who don't know how the real world works.

S.H.I.E.L.D used to be the crowning jewel of spy agencies, now it's nothing more than another fallen regime. I guess something was bound to take it down sooner or later, I just didn't expect it to be growing from the inside since the beginning. How are they going to build themselves back up when they've been reduced down to nothing? They can't even go anywhere without the US military threatening to shoot them down. So what do they do? They set up base in the country that has the largest bounty over they're head. They have almost no outside support. That's why Coulson called me.

Imagine my surprise when a man I thought was dead for more than two years gives me a call. Not to mention, I'd just gotten out. I could maybe have a normal life. No. He drags me right back into the chaos and clutter of S.H.I.E.L.D. It's hard to see my home crumble in the hands of amateurs. At least Coulson had the brain to recruit Barton before he got me involved again. The only reason I'm helping "rebuild" the agency is because Barton has faith in it.

"What do you think of this?" I'm brought back to the real world. He's hologramming a dead member of the index in front of us. "He apparently had the ability to guess what people are thinking based on body language and speech patterns."

I shake my head. "Couldn't be. You know that body language is one of my specialties." I pause, Coulson is scrolling through a tablet looking for different powers mentioned on the Index. I don't want to talk about my slip up, but I'll do anything to hurry this up. "She didn't guess what was going on, Coulson. I told her. When she asked me why I was there it's like something clicked in my mind. I told her exactly why I was there, not holding _any_ information back." Coulson gives me a concerned look. We both know that I would die before giving up any information I wasn't meant to. Whatever she did to me, it's powerful.

"There has to be something we haven't thought of yet." Coulson's eyeing the tablet furiously. What's he trying to do, scare it? He never was very good at hiding his true emotions. Not for an agent anyway. "What if we…" he stopped mid-sentence.

Agent Mai had just opened the door. "Skye just finished the interrogation and she's leading the girl to the science lab for tests," She says coolly. Mai is probably the only agent I actually like here. She's willing to make tough choices and get the job done. I can respect her. Skye isn't bad either, but she's a little too chipper for me.

"I take it, it went well, then?" Coulson asks.

"I doubt the girl's hostile," Mai begins. "She's claiming to have amnesia; we'll see how that turns out." Mai has a small smirk on her face. She doesn't believe the girl. "I think she's frightened more than anything."

"Why don't you go down there and try to make sure she's comfortable, Natasha. I need to speak with Mai anyway." He gives me a nod as if to say 'please don't fight me on this.' Honestly, I'd rather be with the girl who rattled with my mind that in the office with Coulson. I nod back and turn to leave the room.

As I walk through the recycled headquarters, I think about my mistake. How did she get me to talk? It's bothering me. _No one_ can get me to tell them anything, but she asks a simple question and I offer information to her freely. Her voice almost sounded sickly sweet. Maybe she has something in her throat. A chip or something. Whatever it is, I don't trust her.

I reach the lab just after Simmons had drawn some blood from the girl. Skye just said something funny and the group is all smirking. Fitz is over in the corner leaning up against a counter. He's distanced himself from the group, but he's smiling none-the-less. They remind me of Barton and I when we first joined the agency. It used to be about the fun and the thrill, but now we understand the risks as well. Over the years I've learned that nothing in the world is ever pure. There is always something twisted lurking around the corner.

The glass doors slide open for me and I enter the room. "Have you done a mental scan yet?" They need to get down to business, not cracking jokes. This girl could be a dangerous threat, whether she intends to be or not.

"Not yet," Jemma begins. "I thought I'd grab some blood and tissue samples beforehand. A mental scan can be a long process, not to mention I've heard it's quite draining." Fitz nods. There's no doubt that Jemma heard about the process through Fitz. It's a pity his brain isn't what it used to be. I almost feel bad for him.

Jemma sticks a cotton swab in the girl's mouth. She has long platinum blonde hair that comes down to her back about midway. It's greasy; she probably doesn't know the last time she showered. She's still in the clothes I picked her up in as well. She should probably clean herself up after this is done. I make a mental note to make sure that happens.

Jemma smiles at the girl. "Well that's that. I'll begin calibrating the equipment for the mental examination. It shouldn't take more than 15 minutes." Jemma walks over to Fitz and they begin fiddling with some machinery. She's probably walking him through the process more than anything. Oh well, I can use this time to ask the girl some questions.

"Mai tells me you're claiming to have amnesia," I begin. This might be a sore subject, but I'd like to see what she does when she gets angry.

"You're going to see if I actually do in less than an hour, won't you?" She's quick. It's almost like she had that prepared, but that's unlikely. She has a sharp mind.

"If you really can't remember anything, then why did you leave the hospital," I'm trying to push some buttons, get a reaction out of her. "If you stayed they would've been able to help you with your amnesia.

She shrugs. That's odd. "I didn't feel safe. When you say the word hospital, it doesn't make me think of medicine or nurses, it makes me think 'get out.' So I followed my gut and got out." She's looking me dead in the eyes. Nothing about her body language is similar to that of a liar's. She believes she's telling the truth.

"What about your name?" I hope a strike a chord. That must be hard, not to know your own name. I'm sure I'd go insane.

She looks down. I've struck a chord, but not the right kind of chord. "On any identification at the hospital, they had me down as Jane Doe. They didn't have any of my records." She looks up at Skye, and then at me, "I was hoping you'd have it."

I'm about to say something, but Skye intervenes, "We actually do." She reaches for the file by Fitzsimmons. She flips through a few pages, but she finds the file she's looking for. Holding up the paper, she says, "According to us your full name is Samantha Moore, but you prefer to be called Sam."

Sam considers this for a minute, "It doesn't really sound right, but it does sound familiar." Skye may not be as stupid as I thought. Almost every form of identification on Sam's file has been marked as falsified, but Skye didn't let her know that. I flash Skye a look that says 'good job.' She gives one back that says 'I know what I'm doing.'

I'm about to delve into more questions with Sam, but Mai came running into the room. She leans against the table, breathy from running. "Natasha, Skye, get on the Bus now." She takes a few seconds to catch her breath before continuing. "Thor's been spotted in Texas."

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><p><em>Before I post the next chapter, let me know if you want me to continue with a Natasha POV or another Sam POV. I've decided I'm going to post new chapters every Sunday and Wednesday night, but I'm also going to hold the next chapter hostage until I get 3 reviews. That shouldn't be too much. You guys's can do it.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys! Its Wednesday! Because _NO ONE _reviewed I decided to post another Natasha POV chapter. I hope you like it! I'm sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I don't own any Marvel content, I'm just borrowing some characters to do as I please. Enjoy!_

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><p>Finally, a real mission. I haven't gone on a legitimate mission since before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. I've mostly been training incompetent agents. Sometimes I'd be sent out to collect someone, like I did with Sam, but those types of things have never been real in my eyes. Even now, it's not exactly a strenuous task. We just have to find Thor, and bring him back to headquarters before another agency gets to him. I doubt he'll be compliant with anyone other than S.H.I.E.L.D; he had a hard time trusting us in the first place. If the Portland base is half as decent as they need to be, he should already be in S.H.I.E.L.D's custody. Thor never shows up on Earth with anything good, though. He always has a problem he's trying to fix.<p>

When Skye, Mai, and I reach the plane, we find that Barton's already grabbed everything we need. We leave immediately.

According to Mai, it should take us about two hours to get to the base in Portland. We have a lot of time to kill. After we make our way to the fully stocked mini-bar we start talking. The first 30 minutes is mostly spent by Clint and me telling Skye about Thor. After that, we talk about the plan to get Thor. It's pretty solid, I'm almost positive we can pull it off. Then we kill some time by betting on the problems Thor's brought for us. Clint bets first, then me. Skye bets that Loki's trying to take over the planet again. Clint tries to hide it, but he winces. Skye gives me a questioning look, and I shake my head and try to get her to drop it. We're left in an awkward silence. The intercom clicks on, and Mai says we have 15 minutes until landing. Clint fiddles with his arrows. I refill my drink. Skye looks around the trashed cabin. We sit like this for a while before Skye asks about the elephant in the room.

"Are you two dating?"

I look at Clint, waiting for him to answer first. He has a dazed look on his face. "We'd like to," He answers. We both wait for him to elaborate. "We've talked about it, and it would be nice, but we aren't in a great position to." That pretty much sums it up.

"We have a job that makes it difficult to be anything but friends," I explain. "But, yes, we'd like to be together."

Skye considers this for a moment, "Good for you." Before I can ask her what she means she clarifies, "You prioritize your lives without denying the feelings you have for each other. You seem like you have it under control to me." It released some of the tension in the room. It feels stupid, explaining this to someone. She doesn't _need_ to know, but it doesn't hurt us to tell her. Honestly, I don't really know what to make of our relationship. It makes me feel validated in a way.

We land and walk half a mile through woods to a gas-station off of the highway. We go in. After some cheesy password response, the manager pulls a lever and the refrigerated section opens to reveal a secret base. We walk in and find Thor's been patiently waiting for us. He sees Barton and me and rushes over to great us.

"Friends, how good it is to see you once more." He's dressed in his usual get up, hammer and all.

"It's good to see you too, Thor," Clint says. I nod, smiling.

"This is agent Malinda Mai and Skye," I say. They all greet each other.

Mai begins to talk, "As lovely as this reunion is, we should be heading back to the Bus now."

We make our way back to the plane discussing how life has been since Manhattan. We tell Thor about the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and how we've been struggling to rebuild the agency. He seems sympathetic. We all sit down on the ship when Clint asks the question.

"How's your brother been dealing with prison?" It's hard for him to ask. This is more about Clint facing his fears than about the question itself. I know it was hard on him when he first woke up, and it hasn't gotten much better since then. He's trying to move past it.

Thor's face grows solemn. "Loki is dead." The air seems to leave the room. His words hang in the empty space around us. Obviously, this is sad news for Thor, but for Clint and I this is extremely relieving. I'm not sure how to respond, the guy was a madman.

Skye finds the right words, "I'm sorry," She pauses. She looks like she's conflicted about saying anything else. "How did it happen?"

"Quickly," Thor says simply. "He saved me from a dark elf, but I could not save him," he stops. It must be very hard for him. Losing someone isn't easy anyway. He gives himself a few more moments to mourn. "I apologize; I have no need to put my grievances on you. I should explain why I have come to Earth yet again."

He takes a deep breath and forces a smile at us. He's trying to remain stable. "After the death of my brother, my father changed. I believe he feels guilty for Loki's death. He has sent me to retrieve a maid who was once friend to my brother. She was banished to Earth for 300 years, but he has decided to revoke her sentence. I would ask that S.H.I.E.L.D would assist me in my search for her."

Clint responds before I have time to process his request. "Of course we will help you find this girl," he begins. "What's her name?"

"She is named Sygin."

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><p><em>I hope you liked it! Next chapter will be from Sam's POV. If you know who Sygin it, then you can probably guess who she is at this point. Hopefully your sti;l a little surprised. Keep reviewing! It helps me!<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey guys! I can't believe its Sunday already! This is the shortest chapter so far! Sorry! _

_I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to do as I wish. :D_

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><p>After Natasha left, the room felt lighter. I know she doesn't believe me. It doesn't matter though; they have no reason to keep me here once my memory is restored and I've answered all of their questions. A part of me wonders if I'm a criminal, but it doesn't feel right. I would feel guilty if I was a bad person, right? I don't want to be a criminal, but I should still prepare myself for the worst. I wish I had <em>something<em> to go on, but all I have is a name.

_Sam_.

It doesn't even sound right. I know my name isn't Samantha, but it's not like they could read off a list of names until something feels right. I'm stuck with it until I get my memory back.

I'm tired of following gut feelings and instincts. I want proof and reasonable action. I want information and a reaction. I want reasons. That's why it's so nice to be with Fitzsimmons. They believe in the concrete. Skye told me that they were actually two different people as we were walking to the lab.

Simmons is a phenomenal scientist. I've found I know quite a lot about science. In fact, Simmons was able to explain how the mental examination process works and I could understand all of it. It's not particularly strenuous; it's just extremely difficult to relax the mind to a point where the process can occur. I'm almost excited to do the experiment. I want to have memories back, and this is the first step to regaining them.

"What happens when my memory loss is confirmed?" I ask.

Fitz replies first. "You mean if it's confirmed." He hasn't talked much since I've been down here, and he appears pleased with his sass. His thick Irish accent flows gently. He must be a timid person.

Jemma gives him a bright smile. "_If_ your amnesia is confirmed, we will begin a series of tests designed to bring your memory back. It's important that we find what's been locked up in your head." She holds something up to the light to get a better look at it. "That should do it." She looks back over at Fitz sitting on the counter. "Would you like to check my work, Fitz?"

He hops off of the counter and shuffles over to the machinery by me and Simmons. He examines it for a minute, picking at it like a vulture picks at meat. After a while, he nods. "That should be it." He wipes his nose and saunters back to his spot in the corner. He looks happy to have helped.

Simmons grabs the equipment. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I respond. She lowers a white piece of machinery around my head, and then pulls something that makes it snap fitting snugly around my brain. Simmons connects a few stray wires to the thing and my heart starts to flutter. I'm so close to answers I can practically feel them on my lips.

Simmons flips a switch on a box connected to the thing on my head. It starts buzzing. "Try to clear your mind," Fitz directs.

I do as he says, trying to close any open doors in my head. A monitor starts to produce something only skilled experts like Fitzsimons can read. My head is as empty as it can be. I close my eyes and focus solely on the buzz of the machine. It's demanding, my mind can't wander at all or I can hear the machine slow, but it isn't too hard. I feel a shock to my head, and I wince.

"Jemma!" Fitz is yelling. "Something's wro…" I can't hear him finish. The device malfunctioned, sending a large shock throughout my head. I pass out. I start to dream of my past, and thing slowly come to me.

I get my memories back.

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><p><em>Yay! You'll see who she is soon enough. I'm putting the next chapter on hold until I get 2 more reviews! Better hurry up and review already.<em>


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey guys! Sorry I haven't been posting! I'm currently moving, so it might take me a little longer to update. Hopefully, it hasn't been too long. I don't own any Marvel characters, i'm just borrowing them to do as I wish._

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><p><strong>Sam<strong>

I wake up in the same room Skye interrogated me in, but this time I'm laying on a springy bed with a few blankets wrapped around me. It's cold. I've decided I hate the cold. I rub my eyes as my mind begins to clear. Everything comes rushing back to me.

I have to get out.

With all my memories, it's obvious. S.H.I.E.L.D would never believe my story. I have too many skeletons in my closet. And, unlike most, I have literal skeletons. All those years running, all those dead friends, I can't let them find any of it. It would ruin everything I've worked for.

There should only be a few agents here now, unless I've been out for more than 3 hours, and most of them have come back with Thor.

_Thor_. He can't know I've been here. It might make him try to find me, and then they would know who I am. I have to disappear quickly and quietly.

I sit up in the small make-shift bed trying to appear confused. Not long after that, Jemma comes in apologizing again, and again.

"I hope you can see how sorry I am," she says for the seventh time.

"Its fine, I swear. It wasn't a big deal," I say for the ninth time. She fusses with my head for a minute, checking for any burns or bruises. 'Good,' I think. 'She doesn't suspect anything.' I need to figure out how many agents are in the building. "Has Skye come back from her mission yet?"

Jemma frowns. "No, but they sent us a message that said they were landing in less than," she glances at her watch, "25 minutes." She smiles brightly at me. I try to give her one back. I hope it doesn't look too forced. I have even less time than I would have guessed. She looks at me and my clothes. "Maybe you should clean yourself up before we continue with any more tests."

I look down at myself. I'm covered in filth and my hair is in knots. "That's probably a good idea." She leads me to a shower and hand me a fluffy towel. The bathroom is organized and clean. There are even little seashell-shaped soaps.

I give myself 5 minutes to clean up and come up with a plan. I turn on the water and steam immediately begins to fog the mirror. Before it becomes completely covered, I allow myself a few seconds to study my reflection. I'm paler than a sheet and my cheeks are hollow from all the time I spent in the hospital. My eyes are a green in the center, but turn a faint blue around the edges. My hair looks platinum blonde. It's almost white. I don't have much to my body. In fact, I look like a twig. I don't like it. I need regain my strength.

I turn away from the mirror and undress. Once I get in the shower, I relax a little. The water is warm against my skin. It loosens my back and it helps me think clearly. I really hate the cold. It doesn't take me long to devise a plan. I just have to get Fitzsimmons to help me out before I leave, and then make them forget I was ever here. That would leave me virtually untraceable. I could use a car before I leave as well. I should be able to accomplish it without too much trouble. The real challenge is the time.

After what feels like five minutes, I turn off the water and dry myself. I crack the door to the bathroom open and find fresh clothes sitting by it. I pull them in and dress myself. I'm wearing a long-sleeved white shirt, jeans, riding boots, and a wine colored scarf. I grab a razor from the shower and stuff it in my pocket. There are hair ties in the drawers. I take one and put my hair up in a wet bun.

I walk out and try to find my way back to the science lab. It isn't difficult. Jemma and Fitz are working on the device that knocked me out. I hope they didn't get any data from the original scan. The doors slide open for me as I walk towards them.

"When did you say Skye and the others would be back, again?" I ask once fully in the room. This makes Jemma jump, but Fitz doesn't even look up from the machine.

"Goodness, you scared me." She looks down at her watch again, "They'll be here in about 15 minutes." I look at the clock on the wall and note that they should return at 5:30 if Jemma is correct.

"Great," I grin at the two of them. I take a deep breath and release it slowly. I don't want to do this. "I need your help getting out of here." They both stare at me like I'm a lunatic. Seriously? I can get into the nurse and Romanoff's minds without even trying, but I can't even get these two to show me a door? I tell myself to try again, this time pouring all of my abilities into my voice. "Will you, please, help me leave this place?"My voice sounds syrupy and thick. I hate it. It isn't who I want to be, but I can't avoid it now.

This time, they give me the response I want. Their eyes lose focus and they nod in unison. "Fitz, I need you to get me an average looking car. Simmons, I need a small gun."

"Of course," Simmons says distantly. They walk off to procure the items I've assigned them. 'So far, so good,' I think to myself. As soon as they leave I start looking for the file with my information. Skye and Romanoff were looking through it earlier. If I find that I know exactly what they know about me. After a small while, I find the file under some lab equipment in one of the drawers. It's not a very good hiding place.

I flip oven the folder and find the data Simmons collected from the brain scanner before it went haywire. On the bottom, in bubbly handwriting, it says 'data inconclusive.' I've been lucky. Everything's been working out in my favor. I start to get a strange feeling in my gut.

"Shut up," I tell it. I followed my instincts before and they lead me here. I will never listen to my gut again. Fitz walks through the door with keys in hand. "Fantastic, now we just need to wait for Jemma to return." I look at the clock on the wall again. Its 5:22. I have eight minutes to get out of here. I sit patiently for almost 30 seconds when the unexpected happens.

A thin-haired man wearing a suit runs into the room with a gun in hand. Damn. He looks me dead in the eye. "Hi," he has a false smile on his face. "I don't believe we've met yet. I'm Phil Coulson, director of S.H.I.E.L.D." This can't be good. If he's really the director, he probably brought backup. His face turns dark. "What have you done to my team?"

"Lower your weapon," I almost command it.

"Excuse me? Was that a threat?" Shit. He's not as easily swayed as the others.

I say it again with more determination. "_Lower your weapon_." My voice is covered in schmooze, dripping in sugar, but he's still as convicted as before.

"Are the effects reversible?" He sounds concerned. "Can Jemma and Fitz be turned back to normal?" He's worried for them. I can see it in his eyes. I hate this. I'm not a bad person, but I can't let them know who I really am.

"Yes," I need to let him know they'll be safe. "I'll let them go as soon as I get out of here." It's the right thing to say. His face softens a bit. "Now, _lower your weapon_." This time, he complies. His arm falls to his side with the gun. "Fitz, lead me to the car. Coulson, hand me the gun." Director Coulson walks towards me and gives me the gun. I shove it down the side of my pants and we all exit the room.

Fitz leads me to a colossal garage with rows upon rows of cars. He leads me to a small silver Volkswagen that isn't too fancy or high speed. He hands me the keys, and I get in the car. I hit a button on the car that opens the large door leading out. Its 5:29. I hear a large engine humming in the sky, but don't see the plane. I don't wait until I see it to go. I drive off as fast as the car will allow, heading to a rundown storage facility in Ohio.

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><p><em>I hope you don't hate Sam too much. I want to keep her identity a secret for just a little longer. I though if I were her, this would be my reaction. Next chapter is from Natasha's POV. I don't know when I'll be able to post again, but it should be sooner.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

_I'm back! First off, I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to do as I wish. Anyway, I'm sorry I took so long to update. It took longer than expected to get wifi set up in the new house, but I can finally post again! I hope you don't hate Sam too much. She has all the right intentions I swear! Thanks to everyone who followed/Favorited! Enjoy the story!_

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><p>"You let her leave?!" I'm yelling. Coulson has an ice pack held up to his head. His eyes are bloodshot. What did she do to him?<p>

"I didn't _let_ her leave," he says offended. "She escaped." He pauses. We're in Coulson's office. The team had just got off the plane when Coulson told me and Mai to meet him in his office. We weren't expecting this.

Apprehensively, he says, "Our suspicions have been confirmed. She has mind control abilities." He holds the ice pack closer to his head.

"What happened?" I ask. He looks like he took a beating. I'm genuinely concerned. Even though I'm not fond of the way he runs the agency, Coulson's my friend.

He dives into an explanation, "I found Jemma walking down the hall with a handgun. It was so out of character for her. I knew it had to be Sam. I immediately knocked her out and took the gun. I ran down to the science lab and found Fitz handing her some car keys." Coulson stops and inhales deeply. "She asked me to put the gun down. Her voice almost sounded golden. I wanted nothing but to let go of the gun, but I resisted. I was so worried about Jemma and Fitz, I couldn't just let go." He's speaking softly like it's hard for him to continue. "She asked me to put the gun down again, and the urge came stronger than the first time. I asked her if Jemma and Fitz would be ok, they've been through so much. Sam told be they'd be fine and something in me slipped. After that, everything's a blur. The last thing I remember is seeing her drive away and hearing the plane about to land." He sits on his desk somberly. I'm not sure how to process it.

"Why did you bring her here in the first place?" I don't understand. Isn't this more trouble than it's worth?

Agent Mai explains. "After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D, we had hardly any agents left. We learned that Hydra was recruiting members of the Index. Coulson sent us out to find anyone that was ever considered eligible for the list and protect them. Some people were even offered jobs. Sam wasn't hard to find. According to our archives she was inspected for list by an ex-member of Hydra. We also found that all of her identification records were falsified. We immediately put her under surveillance. We found signs of mind control, but before we could talk to her, she was hit by a drunk driver. We paid a nurse to contact us if she woke up. We were picking you and Barton up when we got the call that she was missing. The rest is history."

"So you wanted to offer her a job?"

Coulson answers before Mai can. "We wanted to keep her and the people around her safe." Before I can ask any more questions, he changes the subject, "How did your mission go?"

I respond, "Thor's safely in our custody, and he hasn't been spotted by any other agencies. As far as we can tell, everything went smoothly." I'm agitated. Shouldn't we be looking for Sam before she gets too far?

"Why is he here? Please, don't tell me it's Loki again." Coulson shudders.

"Loki's dead," I begin. Coulson holds his breath. "He was killed last year." Something in Coulson's demeanor changes. He's relieved, but he also looks slightly troubled. He's been through a lot, just as much as most S.H.I.E.L.D agents if not more. Considering Coulson died, I'd say he's been through _a lot _more. I need to keep that in mind when I'm dealing with him, it'll help me see things from his point of view.

"Then, why did Thor come."

"Odin wanted Thor to retrieve an Asgaurdian that was banished here. He asked us to help him find her."

Coulson nods. "Did you tell him I'm alive?"Mai and I look at each other. _Whoops_. He picks up on our silent exchange. "Natasha, you and Clint have 5 minutes to break it to him gently, then I want everyone who's here to be in this office."

"I'll get right on that." I smirk and leave the room. I hope Thor isn't as easily upset as Banner.

After searching through the agency for about a minute, I find the whole team in the science lab. Fitz is in a chair looking dazed and Jemma looks blotchy-faced, probably from crying. Skye, Clint, and Thor are all listening to her closely. No doubt she's telling them about her encounter with Sam. Watching Thor interact with humans is odd. He, a man dressed in amour and a red cape, has no trouble sympathizing with our tiny human feelings.

I clear my throat and all heads turn to me. "I need to talk to Clint and Thor. The director wants the rest of you in his office." Skye and Fitzsimmons leave the room. When the glass doors slide closed I start talking. "We forgot to tell Thor about the new director, Clint." His eyes go wide when he realizes what that means. I almost laugh; his reaction is priceless.

Clint starts first. "So, um… Thor, buddy…"

Thor cuts him off. "I assume you are referring to Phil Coulson." Clint and I look at each other shocked. He shouldn't know Coulson's alive. There's no possible way he _could_ know. Thor must see our confusion because he explains, "Last Earth year, Lady Sif came down to Midgaurd to assist S.H.I.E.L.D in a search for Lorelei. When she returned to Asgaurd, she informed me that the man had survived Loki's attack. I am not sure I understand how, but I am grateful he is alive." Clint and I are both stunned. Not only because Thor was aware that Coulson was alive before any of us, but because Coulson didn't think that Sif would tell Thor that he was alive. How did no one think of that?

I put it in the back of my mind. "Coulson wants us in his office too." The walk to the office is short. When we arrive, the team is discussing something in hushed voices, but it stops when we enter the room. They're standing in a half-circle. Mai is to Coulson's right. Skye is hidden slightly behind Coulson, typing something into her laptop. Jemma and Fitz are stand on either ends of the group.

"Phil Coulson, I am happy to see you breathing once more." Thor's voice booms. He's beaming. He strides over to Coulson at his desk and gives him an awkwardly large hug.

Coulson has a smirk on his face. "It's good to see you too, Thor." He nods at me and Clint as if to say 'Thanks.' He doesn't know how easy it was to _break it_ to Thor. I can't help but smirk.

Coulson breaks away from Thor and his face becomes serious. "Now that we're all here, let's get down to business." The room stiffens as its inhabitants prepare themselves for a debrief. "Hopefully, you are all aware of Sam's disappearance. I've told Skye to locate the stolen car that Sam took. I'm sure she won't be hard to locate. I'm putting Skye in charge of this one." Skye straightens up to look at us, shocked. Her jaw is dropped and her eyes wide. Phil tries to suppress a smirk, but just enough shines through. "Natasha and Barton will be working with her. I don't want Sam to be injured, but she has to be brought in. I doubt she's hostile, so it shouldn't be too difficult of a task."

"Except for her ability to _mind control_," Clint chimes in. "Coulson, what's the timeframe for this assignment? I'm not sure we'll be able to do this quickly enough."

"I want her here by the end of the month," Coulson replies strongly. There is no argument. End of discussion. For whatever reason, Coulson needs Sam here as soon as possible. We all nod. Coulson clears his throat, trying to clear the air. "The rest of us will be working towards finding Sygin." He looks me in the eyes. "Any questions?" A collection of head-shakes and no sir's fill the room. "Then let's get going."

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><p><em>Next chapter will be from Sams perspective. I'm only going to post on Sundays from here on out. With unpacking and a new school and things, it's hard for me to find time to write. I though I'd cut you all a break and post early this week. See you Sunday!<em>


	9. Chapter 9

_Hey guys! First, I don't own any marvel characters, I'm just borrowing them to do as I please. Second, sorry for waiting so long to update! I've been pretty busy in the new school, not to mention I've had severe writers block. I haven't been able to get anything down on paper for the past 2 weeks. Try not to kill me. I'm halfway through the next chapter though, so I think I'll be posting this Wednesday. Thanks to everyone who Followed/Favorited/Reviewed. You guys are what motivates me to continue the story! :D_

_Update: I found a pretty profound grammatical error in the chapter. Please let me know if you find any more in any chapters. I'll fix as many as possible._

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><p>I ditch the S.H.I.E.L.D car at a Target. No doubt it has some sort of tracker in it, and by the time I would've found it they would've caught me. I ask some guy if he'd trade his rusty truck for the car. He has no problem with the deal. I don't even have to use my abilities. I hear someone say we're in Michigan. Why S.H.I.E.L.D would set up a base here is a mystery, but I have no intention of telling anyone where what's left of the organization is located. I also learn that it's October 19th.<p>

I switch cars periodically. It's a long drive from West Virginia to Ohio. I try to create a plan for my disappearance. With it almost being winter, I think I'll travel along the equator until winter begins, then I'll go as far North as I possibly can. That should keep S.H.I.E.L.D from being able to find me. I know Russia just ended their treaty with the organization. My subconscious chimes in, 'But I _really_ hate the cold…' I suppress the thought. I don't want to think of anything that has to do with _that_. I shake my head to clear it.

It's almost 15 minutes until I get there. I find a $20 on the floor of my latest car, and decide to stop at a gas station to switch cars and grab some dinner. It's almost 2 in the morning. I grab some beef jerky and an energy drink to keep me awake until I get to the storage locker. I don't know when I'll be able to sleep again. Every time I stop to rest, S.H.I.E.L.D becomes a step closer to finding me. I trade my warm car for the clerk's 90's looking car that has no heater. I'm miserable as soon as the engine starts.

I try not to let my mind drift, but I'm tired. It's been such a long day. This morning, I didn't have any memories, and now I'm driving to Ohio to escape S.H.I.E.L.D. I attempt to focus on the sound of drizzling rain on the car. 'Rain is good,' I think to myself. I open the back windows of the car. A rush of bitter air bursts into the metal death-trap, blowing my hair all around my face, but the wind keeps me awake. Not to mention, I love the smell of rain. I drive like this for a short while.

The road is almost empty except for a blue Sudan that's been by me for the last 5 minutes. The moon peaks through the clouds, floating effortlessly in the sky. Silvery light spills through the clouds and onto the road. After going to the locker, I'll have to find a motel or something. I speed up, my eyes burning. I tell myself that I'll find somewhere to sleep as soon as I'm done checking, but I have to check. I just have to.

I pull into the driveway of the run down storage facility. A sign on the door says "Est. since 1904." I smile. I jump the chain fence, trying not to fall due to lack of sleep. I stumble when I hit the concrete pavement. I look down rows and rows of storage units. My feet absentmindedly shuffle to the locker I know is mine. Every 3 years I usually make a deposit to the owner to make sure nothing unexpected keeps me from seeing my things again.

When I find my locker I stand in front of it looking at the chipping paint on the rusty metal door. My hands are clasped together. I hold my breath. "Everything will be okay," I whisper to myself. My old life is in this locker. I take a few steps forward to unlock the door. It looks like an ordinary combination lock is keeping the look shut, but there's a small thumb scanner on the back. I hold my finger to it for what seems like an eternity. It unlocks with a click. I take another deep breath, and grab the door to lift it open. It opens clanging as loudly as possible when it reaches the top.

I let out a heavy sigh when I see my things. Furniture and devices from as far back as 1905 line the walls. I take a few steps into the locker, my fingers dance lightly on a dusty 1920's radio. I give myself exactly 30 seconds to reminisce, and then I have to get what I came here for. I look around lovingly at all my belongings. My eyes stop on a picture of me and 4 friends laughing at a candy shop. I snort. They were so much fun.

My time is up and I look away, trying to find my jewelry box. It takes me a minute, but I find it. It's hidden behind some faded paintings. The box is unlike anything else in the locker. Made completely out of a golden metal, the jewelry box has intricate designs painted all over its surface in a deep blue. I brush my hand across the top, dusting it off. It has no visible seams or openings. I bring it to my lips and whisper "Open." The box obeys and a tiny seam of light shines in my eyes. The box breaks in half in my hands. Sitting in one of the halves, wrapped in a velvety material is a small necklace. I carefully unwrap the necklace and study it for a minute. It has a long gold chain and a petite white jewel dangles at the bottom.

I hold it up to the light. A faint smile creeps it way onto my face. I hold it in my hands hoping something will happen. "Not today," I think. I'm almost disappointed, but I didn't really get too hopeful in the first place. I decide to put it away, straightening the chain before I wrap it again. The jewel glints. I look down at it, and it sparkles again. I get excited, praying this is what I've been waiting for. The white jewel lets loose a light blue glow, and I beam. My mind starts to go crazy. "This is it!" I think. "I get to go home!"

I stuff the necklace in my back pocket, trying to contain my grin. I shut the locker door quickly, and lock it once again. There's no way I can sleep after this. S.H.I.E.L.D might as well come lock me up now, I'll be home in a few days anyway. I walk briskly back to the beat up car, making my way through the maze of storage lockers. Nothing could ruin tonight. I try to take an emergency exit a few feet away from the car, but a shadow steps in between me and the door.

It says simply, "I was beginning to wonder when you would arrive."

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><p><em>I know its short, but it seemed like the logical place to end it. I hope I haven't been completely obvious with the story line. I hope it still has some mystery about it. Please review! It helps motivate me! Love you guys!<em>


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